


Such a Curious Thing, the Need to Write

by Azurehue22



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurehue22/pseuds/Azurehue22
Summary: This is a place for me to dump the shorts I'm proud of. You will find primarily Khadgar and Alison in these digital pages; their struggles as a couple and the love they've shared through the many years of being together.Sometimes you will find other characters, perhaps Kale Zaxon, and the agony he faces in Legion. Anduin Wrynn, and my attempts at writing him after the death of his father (and my favorite character.) The headstrong and arrogant Zeke, Planore fire mage who aids Khadgar. The list goes on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This particular short takes place just before the start of Legion. Khadgar has just faced Gul'dan at the Tomb of Sargeres, and arrives back at Dalaran weak. Alison, whose talents lie primarily with defense, did not travel with him on this particular journey. It was a challenge to myself to make the couple face their fears, and write Khadgar having a weaker side than we're used to seeing. Defeat and depression taunt him quite often; I wanted to explore that.
> 
> Another note. Alison is a very powerful Archmage herself; though she and her husband differ in practice, she's quite capable on her own.

Alison busied herself shoring up Dalarans defenses, forcing everyone to leave her alone as she worked. Keeping busy was the only way her mind was forced off her husband; the intricate spellwork required her utmost attention; any detail left out and a crystal could explode, or worse, affect the wrong target. She raised a pink, glowing arcane crystal into the air, followed by another one, muttering incanations and defensive spells into each, weaving energy with her fingers, a complex line of defenses that would prove anyone difficult to break.

A knock at the door interrupted her. Annoyed, she brushed away black hair, before allowing them entry.  
A young mage entered, clad in violet robes, a staff held loosely at his side. He was so young, so thin, with a mop of untidy brown hair, she was thrown into the past for a moment. He looked so much like Khadgar had when he was younger. Only difference was this young man had none of Khadgars vibrance, his round face, or his beautiful blue eyes that had trapped her upon first glance.

“A-Archmage Alison.” He stammered, glancing away when he met her eyes. She was used to men being taken by her, always brushed it away as fact of life, but at the moment, her nerves were too fried worrying about Khadgar and what his innane curiosity got him into this time. She crossed her arms.  
“I’ve been told to inform you-.” It hit her. A wave of familiar, warm arcane energy, akin to the kiss of a wave at the shoreline. It was frayed, torn apart, and weak.  
“Khadgar.” She blurted, brushing past him. He shouted behind her.  
“He’s just appeared, I-.” The rest of his words were lost as she blinked to the streets outside. Despite the night being upon them, people hurried past her, brushing against her robes as she fought against a tide of people. All the faces looked worried. She clung to the energy like a lifeline, pulling her towards her husband.

She found him at Krasus Landing, sitting cross-legged on the ground, despite the fact a perfectly sound bench lay behind him. Surrounding him were two people; Archmagi Jaina Proudmoore and Modera, who glanced over their shoulders as she appeared. Alison rushed towards him, clasping his hands.  
“What happened?” Khadgar smiled weakly, raising up to kiss her forehead.  
“No hello? No ‘Glad you’re back?’” She frowned. He was very weak; these sarcastic quips and avoiding the point worried her. She made to pull him up, but he stayed stubbornly on the ground.  
“When did you-.” She was interrupted by Jaina. White hair seemed to crackle with energy; she was in a permanent temper these days.  
“He teleported here only moments ago. Ca-.”  
“I’m quite capable of telling the story myself, thank you, Archmage.” Deadly calm framed his words, and with a side-long glance by Jaina and a comforting squeeze of the shoulder by Modera, they left, leaving her with Khadgar, who still, despite everything, remained on the ground.

“Why are you still on the ground, you fool.” She crouched behind him, kissing his temple.  
“In a lot of pain.” He groaned. She clutched his hands, looking into his eyes. They shielded so much from her.   
“Come on. On your feet.” Krasus’s Landing was thankfully quite empty, those that frequented it at this hour didn’t pay them and heed as she held him close. He embraced her; his aura, usually so strong, was flickering. She smelled felfire on his robes, the stench of age old dust and debris, and another thing she couldn’t place.

“You’ve quite a story to tell me. Why did you teleport here, and not our chambers?” He sighed, managing to fall into step beside her.

“It’s an easier place to pinpoint when you’ve nearly exhausted your energy. He glanced at her.  
“You seem worried.” A smile creased his lips.  
“Don’t be daft.” She squeezed his hand. They passed the Ledgermain Lounge; faces peered at them from round windows.   
“I assume you found something on the Broken Shore. Gul’dan?” Khadgar hushed her.  
“Not here. I don’t want to raise anymore alarm then necessary.” Alison agreed.  
“Well then, hurry along now.” She made to quicken her pace, before realizing, quite suddenly, that Khadgar could go no further. He truly was exhausted; she had only seen this once, and it had frightened her. Her husband could go on forever; when his magic ran dry he would fight with sword and staff if need be. 

Now, he could barely stand.

“Wait, I.” She stopped him with a hug, kissing his cheek.”  
“I know.” She whispered, squeezing his hands, she teleported them both to their chambers, thankful for her crystals that made it easier to locate.

Khadgar collapsed on the couch almost immediately, his silver hair falling into his eyes. She pushed a pillow under his head.   
“Dollface, what happened.” He didn’t speak, only grabbed her hand and squeezed. She nodded, leaving him alone for a moment as she busied herself at the bar.

“Gul’dan has opened the Tomb of Sargeres to the Legion. They are coming. Again.” She glanced up, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Khadgar lay on the couch, his eyes closed and arm held limp over the edge, fingers grazing the floor.

“I couldn’t stop him. Perhaps with the Watchers help…” She tasted the bitterness in his words. He backtracked, flinging himself into the usual pit of fault.

“I failed. Once again.” His voice ended with a note of finality. She crossed to him, a glass of blood-red wine in her hands. He opened an eye, stared at the glass for a moment, before sitting up fully. She handed him the glass, which he took with unsteady hands, before pulling him to her chest, letting him relax against her. She kissed his hair, pressing a cheek against it before replying.

“It is not your fault.”  
“I fail to see how it is not.”  
“A single man against the might of the Legion? Despite your power, my love, I know you know you cannot compete.” He fell silent, the glass untouched. She took it from him, sipping lightly, the dark tones of a rare vintage meeting her tongue. She pressed it back into his hands, and finally, he drank.

“I failed to stop him. Gul’dan. This Gul’dan is nothing compared to…ours.” The words sounded bitter, ugly.  
“We fought. I know you sensed it on me at the Landing. I…He managed to evade me.” He launched into his tale, telling her of his flight, of the ship filled with merchants and children that Gul’dan alighted, the husks of Nightfallen, the encounter with Maiev; everything. His words were bitter, angry with himself, and final, and once done, he fell silent. Alison knew he wouldn’t speak again for awhile. He nuzzled against her chest, he left ear to her heart, and she could feel his; a steady, rhythmic beat, strong and healthy.  
“You did not fail, dollface.” She whispered.  
“You’re right.” He surprised her with words.  
“It’s only just begun.”


	2. Short Khadison Shorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rather then making an individual chapter for each of these, I'll put them together.

Medivh noticed the ring on his left hand.  
“A bit young for marriage, aren’t you?” Khadgar started, not expecting the question. He looked at his master, his tongue searching for the right words.  
“Engaged to be married, actually.” He raised the goblet to his lips, expecting that to be the end of it, but Medivh continued.  
“Her name?” He looked perfectly curious, with no ulterior motives for the questions. Khadgar opened his mouth to reply.  
“Alison. Wayfarer. She’s a fellow mage. We met just over a year ago.” The name stung as he said it. He missed her terribly; her letters were of course welcome, but he’d prefer to see her face, and wake up beside her just as he had been.   
“In my experience, it is rare for two mages to connect. Very interesting indeed, and for ones so young…” Medivhs words didn’t seem to be addressed to Khadgar, who had to admit, didn’t feel quite comfortable discussing his love life with his master. While he knew Medivh was no stranger to women, the very personal and quite taboo nature of Khadgars relationship with Alison was something he wanted to keep private. Not that he didn’t expect Medivh to not pry it out of him if he demanded it.

However, his master seemed to be done with the topic. He straightened in his chair, eyeing his apprentice with perfectly neutral eyes.  
“Tell me, Young Trust, what you know of the Guardians.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Khadgar spent the majority of his time in the library, doing research for those in Dalaran, as well as himself. He poured over books on divination spells and rituals, trying to unlock the secret of the visions. He became so obsessed with it, he didn’t realize one of the letters of correspondence was from Alison.  
“Oh no.” He shuffled through the letters, coming across one emblazoned with her fanciful script. He’d received these a week ago. She would be worried. He tore it open, his eyes taking in her hand-writing. The loops, the slight quiver of her dotted I’s and crossed t’s. Remembering fondly the notes they shared during lectures…

He responded quickly, the parchment readily becoming more of a scroll as it trailed along the other side of the desk. He was not sappy by nature, but he found himself missing her more and more as time went on; her advice in this critical state of affairs would be useful. He left out, however, certain parts of his time in Karazhan. The orcs, Garona, and Medivh’s frightening mood swings. 

He didn’t want her to worry.

Trouble is, he wasn’t able to send the letter.   
By the time he remembered the letter, unsent and unfinished laying across the desk, he had fled from Stormwind by boat, aged before his time. He was sure that Alison would want nothing to do with him once she saw him. The thought twisted his heart and turned his thoughts dark.  
Violent carnage seemed to follow him. He had buried a blade in his masters chest, and in turn, buried his skull. He had, it appeared, freed him from the taint and grip of Sargeres, but didn’t stop the burning feeling of grief that held him. Stormwind was gone, Karazhan was gone, lost to unreality. His master, whom he had begun to care for as a father, was gone.

All that was left was an image.

And the orcs were on the move.


	3. A Lot of Time Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Smut Short
> 
> The first one I ever wrote of these two, and its still one of my favorites. Khadgar's perspective is a refreshing one, especially as a teenager.

They spent a lot of time kissing.

He didn’t mind it of course. Khadgar craved the time he spent with Alison, every minute of it. It was just an observation he made while they were again, laying on the couch in their Violet Citadel quarters, lips locked together in a furious embrace. Her thumbs were tugging at the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down ever so slightly. His hands, in contrast, were wrapped around the small of her back. He brought up this other observation to her. She laughed.

“What, is it wrong of me to want your pants off?” She giggled, nuzzling his neck. He grinned.  
“Not at all. I just figured it’d be me, not you.”

“Trust me Khadgar, I want you as badly as you want me” She lunged at him again, forcing her tongue into his mouth. He obliged her, his hands unbuttoning her blouse one at a time, the delicate spellcasters fingers deftly removing the soft fabric, working at her undergarments. He’d never had a problem with them. He’d heard from his friends that problems getting a woman’s underwear off; but he never experienced trouble with Alisons. Just a slip of the wrist, and off it went, cascading down her arms and exposing a beautiful chest. He felt her grin as she tugged it off, her hands peeling off his layers, finally making their way down his bare chest.

It was wonder, he thought, that they managed to undress each other. Blind, relying only on touch. Their minds elsewhere, furiously devouring each other in passion. All he felt in the world was her; her lips, her skin, her scent. The tickle of her hair on his cheek and chin, the soft, delicate touch of her hands on his back as they made their way down. She was an addiction; worse than any of the many drugs that always tempted young magi down a path of despair.

Only this kind of drug made his heart soar. He longed to continue kissing, but pants were tricky. They required a bit more effort to pull off if you were sitting on a couch. He broke away, panting. He saw sweat beading on her brow, her eyes heavy and lidded with desire. It never ceased to amaze him, how much she, a woman with so many suitors of undeniable wealth and power, wanted him…nothing more than an orphan with no money or fame.

Standing up, he pulled them off, kicking off the light linens and tossing them to the side of the room. Naked, he landed on top of her, nibbling her neck, his hands grasping her breasts as they ran down her chest. She laughed, her hands on his back, digging into his shoulder blades. He made his way down her jawline, past her collarbone. She arched her back, knowing where he was going.

He’d grown to enjoy pleasuring her over the past month. It’d been a curiosity at first. What did she taste like? He loved the feeling of being inside her, but…that was mostly about him. He wanted it to be entirely about her for a change. That first dive between her legs had been paradise. She squirmed, bucked, kicked out as he dove into her.

“You work magic with your tongue, Khadgar.” She whimpered, pulling his hair. He’d pulled away for a moment, grinning.  
“That is my chosen profession, you know.” She grunted, ignoring the joke as her legs turned to jelly.

The memory rang sweet for him as he kissed her breasts.

“Khadgar?”  
“Hm?” He was focused, so focused on the way her skin seemed to shine despite their being so little light in the room. How did she have such perfect skin? How?!  
“When are you going to let me pleasure you?” All he heard was the word ‘pleasure’. His mind slipped into a single track. He continued his slow journey down her body, kissing her belly, feeling her fingers work tracks into his hair.  
“Khadgar!” He was jolted out of his obsession, looking up at her in confusion.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing, dollface. Just, answer my question.” He moved his hands from her breasts, instead lifting her legs onto his shoulders.  
“Uh. What question.” She rolled her eyes, flinging her hair back over her shoulder. A shoulder that longed to be bitten, kissed, caressed. He struggled to remain focused.  
“When are you going to let me pleasure you?” He didn’t understand the question. He’d get their once he’d rocked a few orgasms out of her.   
“Once you’re good and ready.” He replied, his hands sliding to her aching and soaking core. She grabbed for them, taking them tightly.  
“You don’t understand me. When are you going to let me pleasure you, the way you pleasure me.” It clicked. Finally.

He didn’t quite like the sound of it. He admitted it would probably feel amazing; her warm mouth would probably feel heavenly. Still…He stared at her, thinking hard. She cocked her head, pouting slightly. Those lips of hers…

“All in good time.” It came out as a whisper. He wasn’t ready for it. He was being incredible hypocritical and selfish, he knew. He was allowed to do what he wanted during their times together, but apparently, she wasn’t. He just wasn’t ready.

“Khadgar…” She was let down, he knew, but she understood his reasoning without him having to tell her. It’s what he loved the most about her; she -got- him. Who else could do that. He replaced his earlier grin, and situated himself between her. She was soaking wet already; he’d easily have been able to slip inside without any coaching, but he desired this.  
The first time his tongue touched her she jerked, her back arching, her hands grapping fistfuls of his hair. He grinned. This is why he enjoyed it so much. Her moans, her near shouts of frustration. He enjoyed denying her what she wanted so much.

“Khadgar!” She gasped, as he flicked his tongue over her sensitive flesh.   
“Hmmm?” He wanted to concentrate.  
“I need you inside me.” She begged. He lifted his head, wiping his mouth on his arm as he pushed his way up to eye level.  
“Do you now?” She nodded. He hadn’t been watching her hands, but one found its way around his length, and he shut his eyes as the sensation hit him.  
“Do you like that?” She whispered. Her voice was poison. Delicious poison. He nodded ever so slightly, reveling in the fact she was pumping him up and down, her thumb running expertly along area’s he never knew existed, let alone felt before.  
“How are you…how are you so good at that…” He finally opened his eyes, looking at her. She’d never done this before. He suddenly wished he’d taken her up on her offer to do this with her mouth.  
“I just…watch you. When you’re on top of me. I feel you.” Her words were so damn sexy. He gazed at her, his eyes glued to hers, feeling her hands grow sticky. He couldn’t bare it anymore. He was rock solid, ready to bury himself to the hilt inside her. He pulled her hand up between his legs, earning himself a gasp and a squeak as he held both her wrists in a tight grasp. She seemed to enjoy it, because she didn’t fight, watching as he slipped inside of her, her eyes growing huge and round at the sight of him.

Ah. It was pure heaven. There was no better feeling than this, Khadgar was assured. Not only did he feel on top of the world physically, but he was with a woman he couldn’t bear to live without. He needed her. He thrust slowly at first, building a pace, kissing her forcibly between thrusts, his hands still gripping her wrists above her head. 

Her whimpers turned to moans as he continued to push, their bodies growing slick with sweat, slipping and sliding over one another. He ought to have moved to the bedroom; more room to maneuver. No matter. He picked up the pace, his hands finally letting her wrists free in order to grip her breasts as he kissed and sucked them. 

It felt so good. The friction was intense; she was gripping him so tightly. Moans escaped him; he felt himself being pulled forward as she kissed him, drowning his moans in her own. Sweaty brown hair fell into his eyes once he broke away; he pushed it back angrily, earning himself a giggle from Alison.

“You need a haircut dollface.” She caressed his cheek, and he pushed into her touch, his heart positively bursting at the seams.  
“Don’t…think about that now.” He grunted. She ran her thumb down his face, around his jawline, under his chin, before pulling him close.  
“Come inside me…” Delicious thoughts oozed into his brain. He heard her say it, heard the words, but didn’t register them right away.  
“Come…inside you?” He repeated, his eyes locked on hers. She nodded, a lock of his hair curled around a finger.  
“I…I shouldn’t.”  
“You can. I promise you, you can.” She untangled her hands from his hair, pushing deeper into him still. He bit back a cry.  
“Alison…if anything happens, If I…If you get…”  
“Khadgar I wouldn’t ask you to do it if I was worried!” She was desperate, he heard it in her voice. She wanted to feel him. Alright then. If she insisted. He was so damn close, anyhow. Any moment now, a few more tentative, agonizing thrusts…

He let out a cry, his hands, which held her own, clasping tightly, his teeth gritting, his toes curling. Every muscle in his body contracted, holding Alison rigid around his own as he spilled inside her. She laid very still, her eyes closed and a smile creeping over her face. Sweat seemed to pool from every pore of his body, and he collapsed on top of her, nuzzling up into her neck. She held him tightly, kissing his sweaty curls.

“That felt…so amazing.” She whispered. He silently concurred, too tired to respond.   
“Khadgar, you’re so beautiful.” Her voice cracked as she said it, and he kissed her neck, nuzzling her jawline.  
“I love you so much, dollface.”  
“I love you too, my little gemstone…”


	4. A Little Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alison is shocked to find out shes pregnant after decades of actively trying for a child.

A Little Surprise

 

The news had been such a shock. She was fast approaching fifty; her luxurious black hair was beginning to show signs of grey, and lines had crept over her face. Mages aged incredibly well, but still. 

Pregnant? No. She had long given up hope of ever having children. Khadgar and her had tried so many times, and each time had produced nothing. They both enjoyed it, of course, but they had both given up hope of an heir.

Pregnant. She shook herself mentally. How would she tell him? She had to be careful. Khadgar could be the only one who knew. The revelation was at such a pivotal moment. If anyone else knew, she would be a massive target to anyone who wanted to hurt Khadgar, lure him in, bait him.

She would not be used in such a way. She pursed her lips, set her jaw, and marched out of the bathroom, her robes billowing around her. Khadgar was jotting down fevered notes; his eyes tired and hair jostled from many comb throughs with worn fingers. Always trying to save the world, he was. She gazed at her husband for a time, her mind racing through their time together. If things had gone differently, he’d look much the same…just salt and pepper brown curls instead of pure silver. She cleared her throat.

He looked up at her, his momentary look of irritation replaced with a smile.  
“Alison. I’ve been wondering what’s kept you.”  
“I…I have some news.” She crossed over to him, taking his hands and leading him to the lounge. Many mid-day rendezvous happened on this couch. It was a pleasant reminder of their time as a couple.   
“Spit it out, then.” His blue eyes, always so piercing but ever so bright, stared through her.  
“I’m pregnant.” She’d wanted to tell him differently, perhaps lead him to guessing himself, but the words spilled out of her mouth before she could think of something else. He stared, his eyes wide as gold coins.  
“P-Pregnant? How?” He rolled his eyes at his remark, a broad grin creeping across his face.  
“The usual way, but why now of all times-.” She began, but he embraced her, stopping her mid sentence.  
“It doesn’t matter! We’re to finally have a child!” Over twenty years of waiting! Finally!  
Alison grinned, nuzzling her husband, who had moved his hands from her own to her belly, as if trying his best to hold the growing baby within.  
“To think we’ve been trying for so long…” His face suddenly serious, he looked at her.  
“No one can know.” She nodded.  
“No one.”  
“I won’t have you become a target.”  
“I won’t be used in such a way.” Their thoughts mirroring each other, they simply gazed at one another, too lost in the joy of the moment.

 

“I can disguise it easy enough.”  
“I don’t want you leaving Dalaran, however.” She quirked her lips, eying him with displeasure.  
“I’m hardly helpless.”  
“I know that better than anyone. My point still stands.”  
“I won’t be kept locked up by an overbearing husband.” Gritting his teeth, Khadgar sighed.  
“I am not locking you up!” She closed her eyes, sighing as she took his hands, clutching them tightly. They had been boney and knotted once; but as his magic returned, so too had his strength. They were strong, virile, capable of so much now.  
“I understand you completely, Khadgar. I’ll stay safe. I promise you that. It’s not my own skin I’m protecting anymore.” He softened, leaning in to kiss her.  
“Whatever happens, I need you beside me…” He whispered.  
“You know I’ll be there. Always and forever, my dollface.”


	5. Coming to Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar's return after such a violent episode at the end 2nd war has left both he and Alison changed. She refuses to let him bathe in melancholy. Rated M for Smut

Coming Back to Terms

 

It was their first real night together, since Khadgar had come home. They’d settled into their quarters in Dalaran, though Alison understood Khadgar would not remain here for long, and waited with baited breath every time someone came calling. They would move to Stormwind soon; she would go where he would go, and he of course, would guard over the dark portal.

“So, Azeroth has a Guardian once again, hm?” She teased. The remark didn’t please Khadgar, and Alison’s face was swept clean of the smile it had bore.  
“I’m not even an iota of what Medivh was, Alison.”  
“I just…I meant…” The look he was giving her. It wasn’t anger, really. He was completely still, his face blank of any expression, but the power in his eyes told her not to bring such matters up as a joke anymore. She looked away.  
“I know…I know what you meant.”

Presently, Khadgar sat in the living room; his back to her, bent over a plethora of notes and books that scattered the room. A fire licked at the mantle, and the gentle chiming of a clock rang through the house.  
“It’s getting late, dol-.” She hesitated. Was that nickname even welcomed anymore? She still found him to be her dollface; despite the premature aging. It hadn’t sucked all the life out of him. Sure he was grey, his face lined; but his smile still lit up her day, his eyes still held so much laughter and mirth. His grip strong, his kisses just as they had been.  
“Dollface.” She continued. He stretched, purple robes falling back onto pale, skinny arms.  
“It’s only nine…” He let out a huge yawn, and sighing, turned to look at her.  
“You still call me that.” She smiled somewhat.  
“Yes. Is it a problem?” He cocked his head slightly.  
“Not at all. I’m just confused.”  
“You’re still my dollface, Khadgar.” His face knit. He gestured for her to come to him, and she obliged, taking his hand and squeezing it. Up close, she could see that the curse was only on the surface. It had sapped him of his life, drained his energy and magic, but he was getting it all back in time. The only permanent affect was his appearance.   
“I’m still amazed you took me back.”  
“I never lost you. I never didn’t want you. I never took you back, because you’ve always been with me.” He rolled his eyes. Silver hair fell into them, which he swept away.  
“I mean, what eighteen year old wants an…wants someone that looks like me?” She sighed, hard, through her nose.   
“This eighteen year old wants you.” He’d turned away from her, his eyes on the fire, and she draped herself around him, her hands roaming down his chest. He leaned into her; soft hair tickled her ears.  
“And she isn’t going to let you treat yourself that way.” He scoffed, his beard (Which he’d been growing out when he’d left her two years prior.) scratching her cheek.   
“I guess I have to accept it. Even if it confuses me.”  
“What I don’t understand.” She kept her voice light, airy, unconcerned. She wanted Khadgar in a very particular mood, and didn’t want him walking out of it.  
“Is why you think this even though I have already chosen you. Despite the fact that you have no money, no history. Do you think that I would drop you like a hat because you’d…grown old?” She kissed his temple. He shrugged.  
“I’m foolish.”  
“You’re silly.” She took his hands. Warm, lively. They enclosed on hers, and she closed her eyes, her lips brushing his neck.  
“I think this is a dream, sometimes.” He whispered.  
“That I’ll wake up and be back in that nightmare.”  
“It’s not a dream.” She nipped at his ear. She felt him exhale.  
“Prove it to me, then.”

She grinned into his collar. Oh, she’d prove it to him. Saying nothing, she crossed to the other side of the couch. Khadgar was still staring into the fire, but at Alison’s touch, his eyes found her own. So blue. So vibrant. She slipped out of her robes, laying against him in her underthings, nipping at his jawline. He closed his eyes, a smile slipping over his face. His hands slipped around her shoulders, down her back, towards the ties of her corset.  
“Is this your proof?”  
“That this isn’t dream? Yes.”  
“If anything, it’s proving my point.” She nipped at him harder, enough to elicit pain. He winced, drawing back, but said nothing, only untying her corset with deft, fast fingers. He’d done it so many times before.  
“It’s been so long, dollface.” She groaned. She pulled back, just as Khadgar had undone the last of the strings. Her corset fell away, and she tossed it aside. Khadgar licked his lips, his eyes on hers. She took his hands again, placing them on her hips.  
“Too long.” He breathed. He was, always had been, but was even more so now, very handsome. Untidy silver hair fell into his face with an effortless grace, contrasting his eyes perfectly. By the firelight, she could see his true age shine through the false exterior. She bent to kiss him. His hands moved, thumbs trailing along her belly, grasping her breasts.  
“Gemstone.” He finally accepted the situation, kissing her firmly, tongue slipping into her mouth.

 

One thing had changed since she had kissed him last. This Khadgar was even more passionate, more bold. Perhaps it had been the life-threatening ordeal he had been through, or the fact that so many things had been lost from him. Or, maybe, it was simply that he’d aged. She didn’t care. She accepted it, her hands busy tearing off his robes, careful to leave the bindings at his wrists, lest she get burned.

“Bedroom.” He grunted, tearing himself away. She felt the bulge of his arousal beneath her as he slid from under her, lifting her off the couch. He was strong, despite his complaints, easily lifting her. She followed him into the dark bedroom, grinning as she did so. He stopped just before the bed, slipping her out of her panties and tossing them aside. She lifted his shirt over his head; kissing him as she pulled it off. It joined her underwear in the corner. Her hands found the waistline of his trousers, his found her ass, pushing her into him. She giggled, nipping his upper lip.  
“Excited?” She murmured. He broke off the kiss, his lips trailing from hers down to her jawline, before answering.  
“I’ve thought about this…for years.” She pulled his trousers down, feeling him spring out against her. He stepped out of them sub-consciously, his eyes glued to hers.  
“When I’d return…I thought I’d return this amazing, fantastic mage. Better than my teachers, better than the Council.”  
“You’ve done that and more…” She breathed.  
“I’d sweep you off your feet, wed you…” He pulled her even closer, leaning back against one of the four-posters.  
“Bed you…”  
“I don’t need to marry you to make love to you.” He didn’t need telling twice. He swung her onto the bed. Laughing, she reached out to him, and he moved on top of her, locking his arms underneath her own, kissing her furiously. She ran her hands over his body; he’d grown somewhat thinner. The soft skin she’d been used to was slightly rougher. His lips hadn’t changed, and neither had his energy.  
“You taste the same.” He breathed, his thumbs running along her jawline.  
“You feel the same. So hard…” He pressed into her, teasing her. She wanted him desperately, nearly shouting out in agony as he ran himself over her wet, aching core.  
“Khadgar…please…” She begged. He grinned into her neck, sucking on soft skin, before diving for her breasts.  
“All in due time, Gemstone.” He murmured. Pleasure rocked through her as he kissed and sucked, his thumbs moving in excellent motions around her nipples, before trailing down to her thighs.   
“You’re so beautiful, Alison.” The words slipped out of his mouth, as if he didn’t mean to say them aloud. She gazed at him. The darkness obscured his eyes, but she felt the heat of his gaze, the energy rising up his arms and curling, overlapping, bursting at his waist. She reached down, grasping his length. He sucked in a breath.  
“So are you. Even more so.” She maneuvered him to her entrance, and, finding it, let go. He leaned down, kissing her as he pushed himself in. She felt stars pop in front of her eyes as a wave of pleasure washed over her, heat connecting their cores.  
“I never felt it before…” She whispered. He grasped for her thighs, his lips close to her own.  
“You feel that too?” He kissed her cheek, her jawline, before sitting back up, beginning slow, agonizing thrusts.  
Alison couldn’t tell if it had always been there, or was on count to the curse Khadgar had been put under, but she felt the slow, vibrating sensation of power wash over her. Heat swirled around her. Too someone else, it may have been uncomfortable, but to Alison, it was heaven.  
She craved light. She wanted to see him, see his body pound into hers, his light thrusts, his mouth move in time with his moans. Light burst from her fingertips. Khadgar stopped, stunned and blinking.  
“Sorry, Dollface. I just wanted to see you.” He grinned, bending down to kiss her. She trapped him under an embrace, forcing her tongue into his mouth, pushing him deeper inside her with her legs. He let out a groan against her lips, and began thrusting in earnest. Deep, long strokes, coupled with short, breathy ones, kept Alison on edge.  
“Oh, you’re too damn good, Khadgar.” She grinned, running a lazy finger down his cheek. Sweat beaded on his brow, but his face showed no signs of exertion. He looked over the moon, on top of the world; the best she’d seen him since he’d come back into her life.  
“I’m glad I kept my stamina.” He grunted, pushing into her. On it went, wave upon wave of pleasure and ecstasy crash over them both. Sweat slicked their bodies, and they slid over each other, tongues wrestling, lips glued to lips. She felt his moans, rather than heard them, felt the vibrations in his stomach, rise through his throat. Her own rose to a fever pitch as he hit sensitive spots inside her, his hips grinding over the sensitive button between her thighs.  
“Khadgar!” She cried out his name as she came, gripping him tight, biting down his bottom lip, every muscle in her body tightening at the sensation. Too his credit, he didn’t complain at her biting, only kissed her softly, once on the lips, and once on the forehead. She watched as he leaned back, his sweaty brow furrowed in concentration, silver hair gleaming in the bright light Alison had conjured earlier.  
She watched him as he focused on himself. His muscles moving underneath pale, gorgeous skin, as his slipped in and out of her. His hands, white knuckled in their tight grip on her legs, which rose above his head as he settled them on his shoulders. The slight biting of his lips as he watched her breasts bounce with each thrust. Her sensitive core screamed in tender protest, and she felt him burst, heard him burst, as he let out a sudden yell, falling forward, embracing her tightly, fingers digging into her back, biting her shoulder.

He hadn’t pulled out, and she hadn’t set up her wards. She let the matter slip away from her mind like a piece of dust on the wind. She wanted nothing to bother her, not when Khadgar was here, finally here, beside her where he belonged. He nuzzled into her, kissing her wildly, a grin spreading over his face. She felt the wiry scratch of his beard as he grinned at her.  
“Did I prove to you it wasn’t a dream?” She asked, running a long finger down his cheek and jawline. He shook his head.  
“If anything…you proved it was a dream…but I know its real. I’m lucky its real.” He kissed her chin, a lazy hand putting out the light hovering above them.  
“Sleep, my gemstone. I suspect we’ve a long day tomorrow…”


	6. A Big Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all. Khadgar/Alison

They decided to sit on the banks of Lake Lordeamear for dinner. The waves lapped at the shoreline, and a gentle mist rained down on them, keeping them cool in the late afternoon heat. Khadgar fiddled with the tiny black box in the pocket of his robes, wondering when he should ask the question that was weighing on him.   
"You know, I think I know what I want to do, now." Alison said abruptly. Khadgar looked at her, interrupted from his reverie.   
"Oh really? What’s that?" A smile creeped on his face. She'd been fretting over a lack of knowing where her future lie for quite some time now.   
"The field work really brought to attention crystals and their latent arcane energy. I think there’s more to them than most give credit for." She looked at him. Her eyes shone, the sunshafts catching her iris's like a gem. He leaned in to kiss her automatically, his lips brushing hers. He felt her smile, felt her hand clasp the back of his neck, the other running through his hair.   
"That's brilliant. I'm glad...I for one have no idea what I'll be doing." He lamented. His fingers once again found their restless fidgeting in his pockets.   
"You're good at everything, Khadgar. I'm sure it will just come to you." He grinned, opened his mouth, shut it, and realized it was now or never.

"I have...something to ask you, Alison." His voice wavered, but he managed to stay on track. He couldn't look at her; if he looked at her he'd get lost, and never finish this incredibly important question.   
"Ask me anything, dollface." She leaned against his shoulder, watching his hands. He drew the box from his robes, and he felt her gasp.   
"Yes." He blinked. What had she said? He laughed.  
"I haven't even asked you yet."   
"But I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is yes. I will marry you. I'd marry you a hundred times."  
He grinned, turning and beaming at her. The box lay unopened on his palm.  
"Alright...but do you at least want to see the ring I got you?"   
"Khadgar, I didn't need a ring...but yes. Of course I do." She kissed his cheek. Her lips were feather light against his stubble, a reminder of his need to shave. Brushing the invading thoughts away, he opened the box, and took her hand. He'd gotten her an amethyst. It was small, though large enough it needed a thick setting to sit on top of the silver band. A diamond was too expensive, a sapphire too wild. He was ashamed he couldn't get her something better, but...   
"It's beautiful!"   
"It's not what I wanted to get you, but..."  
"Are you kidding? Amethysts are my favorite gemstone!" She made to grab the ring, but he grinned, pushing her hand away.  
"Let me put it on you." She rolled her eyes, but smiled, letting him slip the ring on her finger. It gleamed in the sunlight, catching the last rays before it slipped below the horizon.   
"I love it. I love you." Her eyes went from the ring to him, and he burned with happiness and the strain from smiling so much. He leaned in, slipping his hands behind her back and pulling her towards him.   
"Do you want to celebrate our engagement?" She whispered, nipping at his jawline. He smiled against her shoulder.   
"Yes. Desperately. It's been too long."   
"Then lets get back, dear Khadgar..."


	7. A Surprising Advancement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU short
> 
> Alison is 12 years younger than Khadgar, and in this universe, she develops feelings for Khadgar who is by all accounts, her mentor. I wanted to write Khadgar in a position where romantic attraction and feelings are foreign, and this was perfect.

She grimaced, holding the books close to her chest, her mind focused on things well beyond her paygrade. Alison strode through the halls of the Violet Citadel, completely unaware of her surroundings. So unware, she collided with something quite solid, and stood back, uttering apologies.  
“I’m so sorry, my mind was-Archmage?” She blinked. Archmage Khadgar grinned.  
“Quite alright. I wasn’t watching where I was going either.” She blushed a furious red, wishing more than anything she could stifle the color in her cheeks.  
“Mind on other matters?” He hadn’t seemed to notice, and if he had, he paid it no attention. Thanking the light, she nodded.  
“Defenses, primarily. I’ve got a work load up to my ears. I can’t believe I’m the only one who bothered to branch into Arcanogeology.”  
“Doesn’t surprise me. Magi are so traditional, so focused on what they see as the ‘right’ path, they fail to see the forks that may lead them to better things.” He eyed her.

Alison realized she’d developed feelings for the Archmage in Dreanor, and they’d come as a bit of a shock. He’d been ill; seriously ill, and illness brought on by draining oneself of all the magic they had. Such a sickness could serious injure or even kill a mage; and Alison had been fretting non-stop when she heard. The feelings only intensified whenever they spoke. He was charming, intelligent, wise beyond his years, and oh so very handsome. He didn’t seem to understand his own innate charm, either.

“Would you join me for dinner, Alison? I could use the company.” She jolted, nearly the dropping the books, which he took from her, a smile crossing his face. She nodded.  
“I’d love too. Though surely you aren’t pressed for company.” He shrugged.  
“The company I attract annoys me.” 

 

After that dinner, in which they seemed to discuss and endless amount of topics, most of them completely unrelated to magic, they met frequently after that. Her affection only grew, until she nearly burst from keeping it quiet.

“Khadgar, wait.” She called after him as he was about to leave her chambers after dinner. He turned, looking perturbed.  
“What is it?”  
“I…I need to tell you something, and it’s not easy, so bear with me.” He raised a brow, concerned. Sitting back down, he gazed at her.

“I…” She took a breath, closed her eyes, and blurted it out.  
“I’ve feelings for you. It’s insane, its awkward…but if by some small chance I can make this work, I have to take it. I care so deeply for you.” To her surprise, he turned somewhat pink.

“You’ve…feelings for me?”  
“Does that surprise you?” She asked.  
“Well…yes it does. It’s…never honestly happened.”  
“I…well.” She bit her lip.  
“I’ve said what I had to say.” He nodded. He turned away, and in her panic, she didn’t catch the shock on his face, nor the feeling of elation.

 

It was later that night he came calling. Dressed in a night gown, she answered the door.   
“Khadgar!”  
“Alison. May I come in?” She opened the door to him. He was fully dressed; he looked as if he hadn’t even gotten ready for bed. It was well past midnight; what was he doing up?  
“I’ve been thinking about what you said to me.”  
Oh. That. She turned scarlet.  
“You…you have?”   
“Yes.” He turned to her, taking her hands.  
“I’m not going to let an opportunity like this slip by. I want to take that chance. Will you…” Butterflies danced in her stomach. Her heart skipped a beat. Beaming, she clutched his hands to her chest.  
“Yes. Yes I will.” He smiled, really smiled, and she felt the overwhelming urge to embrace him, but held herself back. She’d take it slow. She didn’t want to overwhelm him or chase him away. He raised a hand to stroke her cheek, before speaking again.  
“I should really try to get some sleep, but…I’ll see you in the morning.”  
“Alright…” She dropped her hands as he stepped away.  
“Khadgar?”  
“Yes, Alison?”  
“Sleep well. And…thanks.” He grinned at her sidelong.  
“It’s you who I should be thanking.”


	8. A Working Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A husband misses his wife whose away at war. A daughter misses her mother. A wife misses her husband. A wife misses her daughter.

“My sweet silver haired angel. I love you more than life itself. The moment I saw you, you took my breath away. We were so young then. So young, careless, free. Without you I feel empty.  
Cuddle Leyla for me. Take care of yourself, my dollface. I’ll return soon.”

 

Khadgar read it, over and over again, taking in her writing, the faint aura she left on the parchment. He could read it without even looking at it, the sympathy was so strong. He felt a chubby hand on his wrist, and looked down.  
“Leyla. What did you get into this time.” His daughter grinned, her mouth covered in chocolate.  
“Cookie.” She was beginning to talk now, just a few words at a time. She’d already learned to walk, though she fell often. Khadgar had taken to casting buoyancy charms on her just so she’d bounce off the hard floor if she fell. Thick brown hair covered her head, the same color he had before he'd been cursed. He picked her up, kissing her on the cheek.   
“Come on. Lets clean you up.”  
“Where mama?” He faltered.  
“She’s coming back soon.”  
“Where?” her little voice reminded him of Alison’s absence too much. Being away from his wife physically weakened him. He set Leyla on the kitchen counter top, wetting a rag while he tried to think of words to answer with. How did you tell a two year old her mother was away at war? Khadgar should, by all rights, fighting beside her, but he couldn’t do it. Zeke had called him a coward, Alison had been upset. He just couldn’t fight. 

He’d fight for the Alliance in a heartbeat, but he knew many good people who stood for the Horde.

“She’s saving lives.” Is all he said. Leyla beamed as he wiped her mouth free of the chocolate.   
“With that?” She pointed at a crystal floating midair, illuminating the corner of the kitchen.  
“Yes. With those. She can do things with crystals even Dreanei didn’t think possible. Down you go.”  
“Dre-dre…” She pouted, stumbling forward a few steps, before tripping and falling. She bounced before she hit the floor, back on her feet, and she continued running.

 

He played with her until the windows turned gold with the setting sun, and she yawned, throwing down the block she had held in tiredness. She had all of her mothers beauty. His heart throbbed as he looked at his daughter, who stared at the tower she had built for a moment, before crashing into it, yelling.  
“DOWN!”  
Khadgar laughed.   
“Time for bed, I think.” She shook her head.  
“Come on, little one.”  
“Want Mama…” She drummed her fists on his shoulder. Again, another painful throb.  
“She’s…She’ll come back soon.” The painful reality was that she could fall in battle. He knew he would know the second if something happened to her, but that sick reminder always sat in back of his mind. He laid her down in her crib.   
“Sleep, little one.”  
“Dada?” He poked her nose softly.  
“I’m not going anywhere. Don’t you worry.” He leaned against her crib, watching his little miracle drift into dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar and Alison are extremely powerful magi in a very intimate relationship. They've never been apart from each other since the end of the 2nd war. As such, they've developed a dependency on each others presence, and feed of one another aura's. Without the other, they are weakened somewhat. Its mostly in mood, but power is affected as well. Small absences aren't a problem, but long, drawn out ones can really dampen their spirits.
> 
> Alison has been away for a month now. It's dragging Khadgar down. She is affected as well. Writing to him and receiving his letters does lessen the symptoms somewhat, but its a branch of magic not fully understood. (Very rarely do magi marry other magi. Very independent, they are.)


	9. A Damaged Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why would someone so young, so full of life, want a damaged man like me? Fluff.

Alison came home late. Darkness met her gaze as she opened the door to Khadgar’s chambers, but the moon illuminated most of the living area. She glanced around, sweeping dark hair behind her ears, adjusting the books in her arms. Khadgar wasn’t around. Did he go to bed already? She pouted some, closing the door behind her, setting her books down on the many desks that sat hap-hazardly around the room. She’d wanted to spend some time with him before bed, but she ran late in her studies.

“You’re home late.” She jumped, turning around to face the balcony overhanging the kitchen. Khadgar leaned over the railing, dressed in pale-blue pajamas that accented the silver in his hair.  
“I’m so sorry. I was kept late.” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her.  
“No need to apologize. Have you eaten?”  
“No, actually” She sighed, crossing to the kitchen. “I haven’t had the time. I’ve been working with Dreanei Artificiars all day, figuring out how to connect the crystals floating over Dalaran into a massive shield network that can be controlled remotely…” She broke off, as Khadgar emerged from the staircase. Despite the lateness of the hour, he looked full of energy, embracing her in a tight hug as he joined her in the kitchen. Breaking away, he rummaged in the pantry, grabbing a few of their favorite snacks before turning towards her again.

 

“Wine before bed? I’d like to hear what you’ve done.” She grinned, nodding.  
They chose a bottle; a thick, blood red wine from over forty years ago with a sweet pomegranate smell.  
“Most of these bottles were here when they gave me the quarters.” He shrugged, examining the label of one. He shrugged in disgust, tossing it behind him, where it disappeared before hitting the floor.   
“You’ve never gone through them before now?” Alison chuckled, pouring them both a glass.  
“Never really ahd the time or the inclination. You’ve brought out a lot of new behaviors in me.” He winked, linked her arm in his, and lead her to the sofa, where she sat on his lap, snuggled against him.

It was these times, in the evening or late night, that she treasured and cherished above all others. It was these moments with Khadgar she could truly spend time with him. Love making was all well and good, but above all else she just wanted to be with him. She launched into the details of the crystalline network, the defense array, and the anti-air assault canon, all powered by Arcane crystals. Khadgar grinned by the time she was done, and she took a sip, winded.

“Like I said…busy day.”  
“And all of this is finished?”  
“Parts of them. The Defense shield should be running, but we still need to augment the array and the AA canons.” She blinked, suddenly realizing she had finally found her niche.  
“I knew there was work being put into creating a shield, but no one had a definitive timeline before now.” He mentioned, entwining his hand in hers. She kissed his temple.  
“I guess that’s my handiwork. Maybe. I mean, I worked out the amount of energy needed to power the array, and how to access it from crystals. But I learned most of that on Dreanor from the Dreanei, so it’s not really my OWN work, per-se.”  
“Ah, Alison. Don’t sell yourself short.” He nuzzled her. She grinned into her empty glass of wine.

“What about your day?” She tugged on the collar of his pajamas. He blinked, looking down at her hand.  
“It was…uneventful.”  
“Go anywhere?”  
“Nope. Stayed in the citadel.”  
“Really?”  
“I fancied a day alone.” He grimaced.  
“It gets wearing. Everyone looking to you for answers you yourself don’t have.” He unwrapped himself from her, rubbing his eyes in tired circles. She longed to caress him, kiss him. 

“I can’t possibly know the answers to everything. The problem with Suramar, the Nightwell, Gul’dan, the Tomb of Sargeres. I’m just a man, after all. But they look at me like I alone can lead them to assured victory.” She watched him deflate.

“It’s good you had time alone.” She whispered, her voice small. He made a noise in the back of his throat.  
“Khadgar, I know you never wanted this position but there is no one better suited to it than yourself.”  
“Yes. You keep saying that.”   
“Why don’t you believe it?”  
“Past events have left me bitter towards leadership.” He stood up, stretching. She watched his pajama sleeves fall down his arms, and stood up herself, tugging at his hands.

“I won’t let you degrade yourself in such a way.” He blinked. They were a fuzzy point in the relationship. They cared about eachother, loved each other, but past that, they had no idea where they lie. Alison needed Khadgar to know she would always be there. No matter what. She wanted nothing, and no one else.

“You may feel the weight of the world, the weight of thousands of worlds, even, but you don’t need carry that weight alone.” She clamped his hands in her own, kissing them as she looked up into those clear blue eyes.

“Alison…You don-.” He began, but she cut across him.  
“I know I don’t have too, but I want too. I want you to know I’m with you. Always. Forever.” He stared at her for sometime, his hands relaxed in her own, before breaking away and turning, facing the windows.

“When I started seeing you, I have no idea where it would lead.” Alison gazed at him, listening hard.  
“I was…nervous. Confused, for sure. I told myself I needed to do this, for myself, and for you.” She stood next to him, glancing up. His jaw was set, his eyes gazing at the moon.

“That was months ago. I had no idea it would last this long, or grow to be so much. I still have no idea why, out of so many thousands of potential candidates, you would chose a damaged man over a whole one.” He shook his head, a ghost of an unamused smile crossing his face. She grabbed his hand, pulling him to face her. 

“Damaged? You are far from damaged, my dollface.” He started to shake his head, but stopped when she gripped his cheeks between her palms.  
“Khadgar, you are the wisest, sweetest, more admirable man in existance. I won’t take debate on that. You put everyone before yourself. You are eternally optimistic in the face of extreme peril. You were a beacon on Dreanor, and you are a beacon to me. You make me…” She swallowed, pressing her forehead to his, standing on tiptoe. His arms creeped up behind her, wrapping her snug.  
“So happy. Every time I see you.” 

They were silent for a time. She felt his lips press against her own, and she pressed back, hard, willing all her emotions to send themselves through this one kiss. He was so deserving of happiness, she wanted him to feel it.

“You deserve to be happy, my dollface.” She whispered, breaking away, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. He didn’t respond, just pressed his forehead against her own again. He found her hands, held them up, and kissed them.

“If you say so, Alison…it must be true.” She the smallest smile emerge, and she beamed.  
“You know I’m right.”  
“As you always are. Bedtime?” She nodded, letting him lead her up the staircase. She dressed in the small pink nightgown Khadgar had gifted her, but before she slipped between the sheets, she rolled on top of him, kissing his forehead.

“One more thing.” He smirked.  
“Whats that?”  
“Just…this.” She ran her fingers down his collar, undoing several of the buttons, exposing soft, pale skin. She leaned down, trailing her lips from his neck to his chest, feeling soft, flutters of breath and the beat of his heart.  
“There. Keep it that way.” He nodded, his lips parted slightly, before patting the bed next to him. Alison grinned, slipping between the sheets and curling up next to her lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Khadgar in this situation is a personal challenge of mine. He's such a many faceted character with so much history and trauma, you can do a lot of things with him. It's one of the reasons why Khadison has become to fleshed out, as I really enjoy working with Khadgar. He's like an addicting art medium. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this. I'm not sure what I'll call this AU, but this is one of the many that does not include my Planore race.


	10. Kiss the Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar marvels on the changes Alison has brought upon him.

Khadgar hadn’t felt this happy since…well, ever. It was noticeable, he was sure. He walked with a spring in his step. This goofy grin plastered over his face, despite the fact the world seemed to be caving in. People had noticed, and they’d said something. He just attributed to the recent successes in the attacks against the Legion.

It was something else entirely.

He’d started seeing Alison Wayfarer only a month ago, and since then, he’d been over the moon. He couldn’t believe she wanted him, or how long she’d had feelings for him. Truth be told, he only realized his feelings were…actual feelings once she brought them up herself.  
He realized he’d been staring a blank piece of parchment for over a minute, quill poised in his hand, ready to write. A blot of ink dripped from the tip of the quill, staining the paper below. Scowling to himself, he waved an impatient hand over the blot, vanishing it.

What was he writing about again? Oh, right. A transcription for a counter spell to the scrying in Dalaran…He began to write, his many years as a scribe overtaking his hand. Spellwork wasn’t just a verbal affair. Plenty spells were done by pen and paper and a bit of time. The counter spell was simple, and required little focus, allowing his mind to wander to the delicious trail it had already strolled down.   
Alison brought out a side of him he never knew existed. She had shown him the kind of love and compassion no one had dared show before. She understood him, his whims and desires, and overall, she challenged him.

It was hard to challenge a man who many thought as the most powerful mortal on Azeroth. Not that Khadgar agreed with that notion at all; just that it was popular.

He was just finishing up the last strokes of the spell, the ink flashing a brilliant violet, when a voice spoke from the doorway.  
“Hey you.” He looked up, grinning.  
“Evening Alison.” She beamed, walked up to him, and pecked him on the cheek. His face burned where she touched it.  
“Counter-spells?”  
“Recognize the script, do you?”  
“I’ve done a fair bit of research into the subject, yes.” He grinned, letting the scroll furl up, and embraced her. She smelled of spices; cinnamon, murre, a bit of honey. Her hair trailed over his hands, a thick black curtain covering up pale, perfect skin.

He’d allowed himself the pleasure of going down a previously barred path; one that explored her body in detail and everything that went with it. They as a couple had not taken that leap yet, and Khadgar didn’t know when. Didn’t really care. 

“Do you fancy dinner?” He asked her. She nodded.  
“Are you done here?”  
“That was my last one, yes.” With a wave of his hand, the candles placed around the room snuffed themselves out, and they exited the small den.  
“I’ve missed you.” Her words made his heart do a backflip. He’d never been “missed” before.  
“I’ve missed you as well. You’re all I think about these days.” Had he really just said that? He could feel his face heating up at the thought, but she took his hand, squeezing it.  
“I’m glad. I’m glad this…seems to be working out.” Again, a peck on the cheek. He craved more, but had no idea how to go down the path to getting it.

He felt out of place, confused, and naïve. He felt like a blustering teenager, not a middle-aged man who, by all rights, should be accustomed to this. It wasn’t exactly his fault he wasn’t, either. He shook himself mentally, wrapped an arm around her, and led her to a private parlor at the top of the Citadel.

“I thought the Purple Parlor was for council members?”  
“I am a council member.” His eyes danced. She chuckled.  
“Yes…but I’m not.”  
“We’re allowed to bring guests, and besides, I can do what I want, for the most part.” He bent over a desk, writing down an order for dinner, while Alison looked around. He smiled as he watched her from the corner of his eye. She turned in place, taking in the gaudy wallpaper and crystalline lamps, running her hands over the exquisitely designed furniture.

“This place is incredible.” She mused.  
“I thought so too, when I first saw it. You get used to it, after a time.” He rolled up the parchment, and in a whirl of blue flame, it was gone. 

“Is it working?” He glanced at her.  
“Is what working?” She closed the gap between them, her hands taking his. He felt his cheeks color.  
“Us. You said you wanted to try.” He raised a hand, stroking her cheek. She pressed into his touch, closing her eyes. Damn, she was beautiful.   
“Yes. It is working, or should I say, we’re working.” He whispered.  
“Good.” He pulled her towards one of the over stuffed sofa’s, tripping over a stool as he went, instead falling backwards upon it. She laughed, landed on top of him, and seemed momentarily shocked at the position the two of them were in. Khadgar hastily leaned up on his elbows, but she stopped him, her palm to his chest, lips so close to his own. He wanted this. She shouldn’t have to make all the leaps. He should take what he want. 

He kissed her. 

She tasted so good. He couldn’t describe it, only that he’d craved this feeling all his life, without realizing he needed it. He pushed deeper, and she pushed against him, her fingers running behind his neck, through his hair. He explored her body, running his hands up delicious curves, feeling the weight of her atop of him.

It didn’t last nearly as long as he wanted. He never wanted the moment to end. They broke away, gasping somewhat, gazing at each other, wide eyed. Before he could blink, however, Alison dipped down, nuzzled his cheek, kissing it lightly.

“I’ve been waiting for you to take that leap.” She murmured, laying down against him. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, kissing her hair.  
“I’ve never felt the moment was right…until now.” He felt her sigh, a flutter of breath hitting his hand. He felt himself grin, staring at the ceiling, hoping, wishing, praying, that he’d never be interrupted from this moment.


	11. The Changes Wrought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kale comes to terms with the changes wrought upon by the Legion, and Nyota comes to terms with the fact his father has indeed changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a Khadison fic! Two original characters, both Planore! Planore are detailed in my Fic The Wolf Soars on Eagles Wings. Both these characters have special bonds with members of their perspective flights, but I won't go into too much detail.

Kale clung to the mangled branches of Teldrassil, trying his best forget the unending pain of his current existance. His talons dug long trenches into the bark, leaving scorched wood behind, smelling of sulfur. He faced away in disgust.

He was a monster. A disfigured, hated monster. Shunned by everyone, even himself. After he had broken free of the Legions grip on his mind, he’d fancied himself a free agent, able to go back to the life he had lived before this trauma.

He’d been wrong. He was a marked man; permenetly disfigured, stinking of fel taint wherever he went. He could never go back to his scholarly ways; shutting himself in dimly lit libraries, jotting down feverish notes into the wee hours of the morning, cramming whatever knowledge he could get his hands on into his mind.

Besides, he felt the tugs of the demonic taint on his soul, the craving of blood, death, despair. Parts of him didn’t want that life back. The part of him that sacrificed himself for the dead King had long died, shriveled up. 

His pain had been for nothing. His attempt at saving King Varian from his horrible fate had failed. 

Kale closed his eyes. With some effort, he clambered on top of the limb, transforming into his smaller, more flexible humanoid form, and slumped against a vertical branch, gazing out into the stormy seas. It seemed to permanently storm outside Teldrassils branches. The Veiled Sea was aptly named.

He’d flown here over the course of several days, cherishing the peace and quiet the journey had given him. He’d avoided the stares of disgust from the Night Elves by skirting the upper branches, flying below and above their sight lines, and nestling in a copse he doubted they even knew about. He’d found it years ago, when he traveled the world as a young man.

He yawned. His hands, held in front of him, shaping a purple ball of shadow out of thin air, molding it for a moment, before tossing it back and forth between them. Despite his newfound fel tendencies, he preferred shadow magic, and the talons is transformation had given him aided in creating shadowy constructs. 

He tossed this ball, back and forth, over and over again, his mind wandering to dark areas. He’d never been the kind of person to bathe himself in attention; oftentimes he’d disappear into his library for days on end, eating little, talking less, his thirst for knowledge greater than anything else. It strained the few relationships he had. Now? It was impossible to get anyone to look at him, let alone talk to him. He sighed.

What was next for him? He wanted to continue his scholarly journey, but another part of him wanted to completely cut himself off from everyone. It wanted revenge, to cause pain, torture, as he felt, on any other thing. That was the part of him that the Legion had forced upon him. Images flitted across his gaze, images of darkness, being forced to drink foul concoctions of blood and entrails, fiery claws and whips and instruments probing his mind, extracting every piece of information he had.

Then nothing. For a very long time, nothing. Pieces constantly floated into view, like a corpse decaying underwater. Attacking a Horde camp. Ripping fellow Planore to shreds. Wreaking havoc upon dragons in Aszuna. They sickened him. He had only broken free of the Legions grip on him with the help and solidarity of his son, along with Zeke Firebrand. They alone had found the key to unlock his mind.

Wings beats. Kale cocked his head, listening. The leaves around him rustled. He dispelled his void energy, his hands at the ready, waiting. A bronze drake emerged from the foliage, its eyes wide at the sight of him. He recognized the features: Nyota, his only child and son. How had he found him?

“Father?”  
“Nyota?”  
“Why are you here?”  
“How did you find me?” The spoke at the same time. Silence. Kale waited for him to respond.

“I followed the trail of fel energy. You’ve never been easier to track.” Kale took note of this. He’d have to find a way to cover up his trail.  
“I see. I’m here because I thought I’d be a place of solidtude. Apparently, I was wrong.” He slumped back against the tree climb.

“I’ve been tracking you for days, Father.”  
“I could ask you why, but whats the point?” Nyota circled him, landing on the tree limb. He took note of the deep, sickly green gashes, sniffing at them slightly, before shaking his head in disgust.

“Because I worry about you.”  
“Don’t. Never been better.” Once again, he conjured the little void ball, bouncing it back and forth, rolling it between finger tips.  
“Maybe I shouldn’t. You’ve kept the same habits.” Kale grinned. Planore always had sharp canines, but his transformation had chiseled his incisors into fine points as well.

“See? No need to worry.”  
“No. I don’t think that’s the case. One just doesn’t turn around from being tortured and enslaved by the Legion.”  
“I completely agree. But that doesn’t mean you have to tail me.”  
“Father…”  
“Nyota, all I need now is peace and quiet. Neither of which your prescience is giving me.” Nyota glared at him.  
“Besides, doesn’t the Alliance need you? Quite the clean up, I imagine.”  
“They’re getting on without me. The Planore follow Anduin and Marcus’s orders.”  
“Tut tut. Letting a human lead our people?” Nyota growled.  
“That was your doing, Father. Not mine.” Kale smirked again.

“Where is Zaladormu?”  
“Below. Waiting.”  
“As I thought.” Kale stretched. In an instant, he became a drake, his snout elongating, sprouting scales and bony plates. Where he was once a dusty, earthen brown, he was sickly, greenish black. His long talons glowed green with fel fire, and the sigil of the Legion burned permanently above his eyes. 

“Does your flight accept you?” Nyota asked, blinking in front of him. Kale gnashed his teeth.  
“They have too. They are the only five sane members left of it, after all. It makes them the only beings on Azeroth that do.”  
“You haven’t given anyone a chance-.”  
“I don’t want too, Nyota. Bad enough they’re reminded of all the terrible things that have happened. I don’t expect them to accept me, and I won’t try. You saw how the Illidari were treated? And for what? Where are they now?”

“Allies.”  
“Tools. And they are worse off than I.” Nyota sighed, his bronzen head shaking sadly.   
“You are beyond convincing.”  
“I am. So, git.”  
“I am not budging. Not until we have a flight, like the good times.” Kale studied him, his head cocked to the side.  
“No. We must move beyond that.” And with those final words, he took off, his wings beating once.

Nyota stayed behind, gazing at the retreating form of his father. Already, he was masking his aura. He wouldn’t be able to track him anymore. Kale had never been the best of fathers. The best of husbands, or the best of leaders. He had always had a one track mind. Nyota wanted to be everything his father hadn’t been, and he was already failing on one front. His daughters needed him, and here he was, chasing after a father who didn’t want to be one. He shook his draconid head, before diving once against back into the foliage, after Zaladormu.


	12. A Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My spirit is bound to this tower..."

Moving to Karazhan had been a good idea.

He had never felt freer, or happier. The exhaustion of all the years of fighting, coupled with so many, many losses, had been staggering. After the events of Antorus, Khadgar had just felt…tired. He wanted an out. Alison had said he deserved an out.

“You’ve done so much. Nobody can deny that.” She had said, smoothing his hair and kissing his head. He’d nodded, feeling quite numb to everything but his baby daughter sleeping against his chest.  
“I’m tired, Alison.” She kissed him again.  
“I can feel that. I can see that. You deserve a break.”

He suggested they move to Karazhan. He was surprised at her lack of hesitation, even the glimmer of excitement in her ocean-blue eyes. They’d moved quietly, leaving nearly everything behind. Zeke told them he’d bring them their valuables in steady shipments, when he found the time.

“You should have our old quarters.” Khadgar smiled. Zeke stared, wide eyed, his dark skin contrasting wildly with his fiery red hair.   
“Are you sure?”  
“You already live here, Zeke. I want no one else to have it.”  
“But…”  
“It’s yours. No arguments! No exceptions! I don’t plan on returning. Not anytime soon.” He’d smiled wryly.  
“Knowing the council, they’ll try everything to get me to stay.” Zeke had nodded, struck dumb.

 

So they’d moved. The tower was in shambles, not only from the many years of desertion but also from the Legion’s recent occupation. Creating familiars to do the cleaning was the easy part; containing corruption and banishing angry spirits was far harder. Leyla made it even more challenging; her natural curiosity being so much like her fathers, Alison had taken to creating a magic bubble, trapping her inside so she could safely work without having turn around every second to make sure her daughter didn’t accidently kill herself.

Finally, they could settle. Khadgar and Alison took over Medivh’s old chambers; replacing most of the furniture and the dusty old mattress. It was in massive need of a paint, but that could wait. 

Presently, Khadgar lay awake, waking quite suddenly from a deep sleep. He was unaware with what had awoken him. He’d long grown use to the towers many grunts and groans, and Alison was still fast asleep beside him. He wrapped a comforting arm around his wife, kissing her softly, before getting the urge to visit his daughter. He slipped out of bed, crossing silently over to the next room, where Leyla’s crib lie.

He stopped dead in the doorway, sure he was hallucinating. A figure stood over her crib, staring at the sleeping toddler within. Khadgar blinked. No, he wasn’t hallucinating. There was a spirit, an entity standing over her. He wheeled into defense mode.  
“Who are you?”   
“I know you know who I am, Young Trust.” The spirit turned, and with that, became clearer. What was once hazy, misshapen lines, grew crisp. A heavy cloak, decorating with feathers. A familiar face, lined and aged, though currently grinning.

“Medivh?” He whispered, breathless. He wasn’t sure he could trust his eyes. He held up his hands, preparing to cast a scrying charm, but was beaten to it.  
“Scry all you like. I can assure you, I mean you know harm. There are no dreadlords masquerading as me this time.” He spat the last words in disgust.  
“I am glad to see you have settled in my tower.” Khadgar blinked again, finding his tongue.  
“It is the only place I feel home.” His old master smiled.  
“You and Alison…have finally had an heir.” Khadgar felt himself blush.  
“You’re attachment to her had always intrigued me. It is…good to see you two still together. Still…happy.”  
“She is the best thing to have happened to me.” Khadgar crossed over to Leyla’s crib. She was sleeping, curled in a tight ball, sucking her thumb, her dark curls covering her face. He brushed them away.  
“She gave me Leyla. I never thought I’d have children, not after…” He broke off.

“After I cursed you with unnatural age.”   
“It…wasn’t you.”  
“It was…and it wasn’t.” Silence.

“Alison would like to meet you, you know.” A part of Khadgar desperately wanted Medivh to stay. He may be mere spirit, mere memory, but he was still here.  
“Not today. Not now. It takes a lot of effort to take this shape, you know.” He smiled, placing a spectral hand on Khadgar’s shoulder.  
“Take care of yourself, my apprentice…though, you seem to be the master now.” He glided away. Khadgar took after him.

“Will you visit again?” A sort of boyish feeling took over him. Medivh was the closest thing he ever had to a father.  
“Perhaps. I have…other things to attend to, these days. But I will try.” Again, he smiled, before disappearing. Khadgar held a hand to the place Medivh had been, trying to swallow what had just transpired. In his sudden absence, he heard Leyla cry, and rushed over to her. She’d awoken, clutching the bars of her crib. In her tiny fist, she held a single black feather. Khadgar stared, picking her up.

“Where could you have gotten this?” She leaned against him, and Khadgar took the feather from her. It wasn’t his own, that was for certain. It had been a long time since he’d assumed that form. It was, as Medivh had said, a memory.


End file.
